


After Kirkwall

by elfgirl931



Series: Sasha Hawke [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:14:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfgirl931/pseuds/elfgirl931
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short works featuring Anders and Sasha Hawke. Focusing on their time on the run after Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. After the Storm

    Sasha Hawke and her friends ran from Kirkwall, knowing that soon the Templars would recover from their shock and come after them. Never mind that they’d done the world a favor by killing Meredith, who had clearly been driven insane by the idol of red lyrium.

      The Templars would say that they were after Anders, of course, but Sasha knew that they’d all be charged as accomplices, at the very least. The worst thing was that the others had gone along with her after the fact, because they were her friends - but Sasha knew that she was the real accomplice. Not knowing what she was doing at the time was no excuse - the fact remained that she had helped Anders set up the Chantry explosion, and it was eating her up inside.

     No one spoke as they made their way across the countryside, and they set up camp as best they could when the sun went down. At first, no one wanted to dare light a fire, but Fenris was able to find a place among some boulders and overhanging rocks along a cliff that would hide the firelight and most of the smoke. Sasha joked that his skills at being a fugitive were finally coming in handy, but no one felt much like laughing.

      They sat around the little fire all night, and no one spoke at all. None of them seemed to be able to fall asleep, except for Varric and Merrill. He snored away with his arm flung over his eyes, and she lay curled up like a cat with her head pillowed in her hands. Aveline prowled back and forth, warily eying the darkness outside their little circle of firelight, and Donnic sat watching her.

      Sasha made sure not to sit next to Anders. If she thought she’d felt betrayed when he tricked her into believing he could make a potion to separate him from Justice…. That was nothing compared to what she felt now. She’d been tricked into helping him _murder_ people. She didn’t love the Chantry in the least bit, and she’d done what she’d had to do when it came to defending the Circle, but she still felt unclean. She knew she loved Anders, and had even told him so before the battle, but now that she’d had a little time to think about what had happened, she felt too conflicted to be near him.

       She could tell that some of the others couldn’t believe she’d let Anders live, much less let him come along with them. Aveline kept shooting glares at him, and Sasha knew that she’d get a lecture later about love blinding her or something. Fenris was scowling at Anders too, but that was nothing new. Isabela muttered to herself, drawing maps of the sea in the dirt with the point of her knife, and rolled her eyes at the group once in a while.

     As the others slowly began to drop into sleep, one by one Sasha hugged her knees and stared into the fire, trying to make sense of everything. She’d lived with Anders for years, and knew the way he breathed when he slept, the way he left things lying about, how he forgot to shave, and the way he laughed. She knew his nightmares and he knew hers. He’d told her more about his past than he’d ever told anyone. She knew the side of him that just wanted to help people - but never that he was capable of such an enormous act. _Maybe I don’t know him like I thought I did._

      Someone sat down beside her and gently touched her shoulder. Sasha raised her head to see Anders, exhaustion and pain written all over his features. “Sasha, I don’t know what to say. Talk to me, please,” he pleaded.

       “I don’t know what to say either. What would you like me to say? That I’m all right? That I just watched the man I love murder people and start a war, and _lied_ to me again and again, and that we’ve lost everything, and I’m supposed to be all right?” Her voice rose with each word until it became shrill. Aveline’s head snapped towards them, but she didn’t say anything.

       “Of course not,” he whispered harshly. “I warned you I would hurt you. I told you there were things that were bigger than you and me. You… you should have killed me when you had the chance.”

      Sasha stared at him for a moment and then stood up, stalking out of the ring of rocks and into the darkness. She heard Anders following her, and when he caught up, she wheeled around and slapped him as hard as she could. “Don’t ever say that again, do you hear me?”

      When he brought his head back to face her, his eyes glowed blue, and the Fade shone out of cracks in his skin. “ **We do not expect you to understand** ,” Justice intoned.

       “You get out of him,” Sasha said furiously, tears coursing down her cheeks. “You’re no better than a demon. Anders never would have done this if not for you!”

       “ **I am no demon!** " he roared.

        “Get out of him,” she said again, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t want to have this fight with you right now.”

       **"I am part of him** ,” the spirit said, but in a quieter voice. When Sasha looked up again, the blue glow had faded from Anders’ body, and he rubbed his hands across his face.

      “What happened, love?” he asked in confusion. “Why are you crying? Maker, what did I say?”

      Her heart broke all over again. She took a few steps towards him and put her arms around his neck. Anders hugged her back with only a little bit of hesitation.

      “I have no love for the chantry, Anders, but I hate what you did. I hate that you lied to me,” she muttered into his jacket. She hit his shoulder softly when he started to protest. “Let me finish, I have to say this. I have to accept that you have this other side to you. You know I’ve never liked it, but I’m finally starting to realize what it all means.” She stepped away and wiped her eyes, but kept hold of his hand. “I love you. What you did doesn’t change that. In time, I’ll be able to move past everything that happened today. You just need to give me some time, all right?”

      Anders pulled her back into his arms and hugged her a little tighter than before. “All the time you need.” His voice hitched with a sob at the end. “It’s more than I deserve.”

       “Stop it,” she murmured, kissing his cheek. They held each other for a long time into the night. Sasha knew they had a long, very rough road ahead of them, and a lot of things to resolve, but her heart had quieted and found what it needed. She loved him, and nothing was going to change that.


	2. You Thought I Cared?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Templars catch up to Anders and Sasha after they separate from their friends. What Sasha does to help them escape is necessary, but devastating. Written as a prompt fill on Tumblr.

      The Templars have them cornered, and they know it. True, there are only three of them, but Anders and Sasha have been running for hours, sapped of their mana and their strength. This is not Kirkwall, where they would have had a hundred tunnels and alcoves and secret passages to lose their pursuers - they are in the wilds, and there are only so many trees they can hide behind.

      Anders is shocked when Sasha stops running and faces the Templars. He skids to a stop a few feet away from her and tries to grab at her arm. “What are you doing?” he hisses. “We’re out of magic and they’ve silenced us twice, we’ve got to keep running.”

        Emotions war on Sasha’s face, changing too quickly for him to read properly. “I’m sorry,” she says, and turns around, throwing her staff to the ground.

     “Stop, apostate! Not one step closer!” The Templars advance on her, swords raised, but Sasha doesn’t bat an eye. She actually smirks.

     “You haven’t caught yourselves just any apostates, lads. This is Anders, the chantry destroyer himself. And me? Why, I’m the Champion of Kirkwall.”

       The Templars hesitate. “Prove it,” one says.

        Sasha reaches into her belt pouch and removes the seal given to her by the Viscount, so long ago, dangling it mockingly in front of them.

      “I’m sure you’ve seen the wanted posters. And I know you get a bigger reward for bringing me in alive. I know they all want me to fix the mess. And as a token of my cooperation, I’ll help you bring him in.” She hooks her thumb casually over her shoulder at Anders, who stands frozen in horror.

       The reality of the situation crashes down on him when the Templars advance, knocking aside his attempt to fend them off with his staff. They push him to his knees, but he barely feels their rough hands binding him. He can only stare at Sasha, standing there with her arms crossed and her face smooth and impassive. She doesn’t even twitch when they yank his head back by the hair and lay a naked sword to his throat, and his heart sinks like a stone.

      “This one’s an abomination, I hear,” says the Templar holding Anders by the hair.

      “You heard the Champion. The reward’s best if we bring him back alive. The Divine wants him Tranquil for what he’s done.”

      “And I don’t want to fight her,” the third Templar mutters in an undertone, gesturing subtly back at Sasha. They haul Anders roughly to his feet, and she’s _smiling_ at the Templars.

      “Sasha?” Anders says in a faltering voice, and she turns her head to look at him.

     “What?” she says coldly. “You actually thought I cared about you?” She laughs then, cruel and hard as shards of flint. “I’ve stayed with you out of convenience until now, but I’m tired of running around with you.”

      “But you said… you - ” Anders can barely get the words out. His heart clenches painfully. _This can’t be real._

      “I said what? That I loved you? That I forgave you for what you did? Please.” Sasha sneers at him and then turns back to the Templars. “Can you believe him? Thinking I’d want to give up my position in Kirkwall for a lying, murdering rat of an apostate?”

       The Templars laugh nervously along with her and start to drag Anders back along the path. He offers no resistance - Sasha was the one thing he’d had left, and none of it was even real.

      A faint pop sounds behind them, and then suddenly a hand snatches the back of Anders’ jacket, yanking him out of the Templar’s grasp and pushing him backwards several feet. He stumbles and falls to the ground, rolling a few times. When his head stops spinning, he lifts it to see Sasha slamming the Templars to the ground with Force magic. Her hands crackle with lightning, and the blast she throws at the their prone forms blinds Anders temporarily.

      When his vision clears, she is kneeling beside him, cutting the ropes binding his hands and then pulling him into her arms. _I’m sorry, I’m sorry,_ she whispers over and over. He has no answer, he can only hold her and try to stop his body from shaking. Sasha pulls back to wipe tears off of his cheeks - he hadn’t even realized that he was crying.

       “You thought I meant it, didn’t you?” When he doesn’t answer she kisses his cheek and rests her forehead against his. “I saw it all over your face.” Anders grips her tighter but still can’t find his voice.

      “I’m so sorry,” Sasha murmurs again, stroking the back of his neck comfortingly. “But I had to make them believe me. I had to keep them talking long enough for their silences to wear off, and their attention on you so I could down a few mana potions.” She pulls away to look at him again. “You don’t believe that I really think all that, do you?”

      “Of course not,” he says finally. “But it’s what I deserve to have you think of me. Frankly I don’t know why you’ve stuck with me this long.” The words spill out of him quickly, burning his throat and mouth like bile.

      “Do you really not?” she asks softly. “How many times do I have to tell you that I love you and that I’m not leaving you before you’ll believe me?”

      “Maybe just one more,” he says weakly, attempting now of all times to make a joke.

      Sasha kisses him instead, sliding her hands through his hair and pulling him closer. He closes his eyes and leans into the kiss, allowing himself to be lost in the feeling of her lips pressed softly against his.

      “Don’t you dare believe anything but this, Anders,” she whispers in his ear. “I am not going to leave you. I made a choice to run with you, and that’s not going to change.” She pulls away to look him in the eye. “I love you, and that’s not going to change either.”

      Anders stands and pulls Sasha to her feet, and keeps hold of her hands, kissing them one at a time. “All right,” he says quietly. “I believe you.”


	3. A Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha thinks she might be pregnant with Anders' baby. Written as a prompt fill on Tumblr.

_Life as a fugitive is hard enough without the vomiting_ , Sasha thought wearily, wiping her mouth on her sleeve and emerging from behind a bush for the third time that morning. Luckily, Anders was still stretched out asleep in their little tent when she peeked in. She didn’t want him to worry about her any more than he already did.

      The sight of last night’s stewpot sitting over the coals of their fire made her stomach turn again. _If I didn’t know better, I’d say the meat was off - but I snared that rabbit just yesterday._ She stirred the pot a few times, wrinkling her nose in distaste. They’d have to eat it to keep up their strength - Anders had heard rumors about Templars sniffing around in the last village, and they have to move quickly. But it still smelled awful.

     Sasha stoked the fire up and then stared gloomily into the stewpot, stirring it a few more times and wondering if she could stomach eating it. A kiss on her cheek shook her out of her moping, and she smiled up at Anders.

      “Good morning, love. You’re up early,” he commented, taking a seat next to her and reaching for his bowl. “It was strange to wake up without you, you know. Usually you’re snoring in my ear when I wake up.” He gave her a cheeky smile, which she was glad to see - after nearly a year on the run, his old self was starting to come back a little. The smile fell a little when he took a good look at her face. “You look pale, are you all right?”

      “I’m fine,” Sasha answered quickly, forcing her face into a smile. “Just couldn’t sleep well last night.” She sat down next to him, tucking her robes under her and reaching for her own bowl. She tried to spoon some stew out to Anders, but he set his bowl back on the ground and focused worriedly on her face, breakfast completely forgotten.

      “That doesn’t make sense… you’ve been exhausted and sleeping more than usual for the past week, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

      “I’ve told you a hundred times not to act like a mother hen,” she answered lightly. “I’m not one of your patients…. Ser Healer.” Sasha lost her joking tone halfway through the sentence as the breeze picked up the scent of the stew and pushed it into her nostrils. She could practically feel her face turn green, and she stumbled over to the bushes again, losing what little she had left in her stomach. Anders was right behind her, holding her hair with one hand and gently stroking her back with the other.

      “Sorry,” she gasped. “Don’t eat the stew, there’s something wrong with it…”

      “Sasha,” Anders interrupted quietly as he guided her back to the campfire. “When was the last time you had your courses?” He used his carefully neutral healer’s voice and couldn’t quite seem to look her in the eye.

      “I don’t know,” she snapped irritably. “What does that have to - oh. Oh Maker.” She sat down abruptly. “I can’t be - you’re a Gray Warden, you said you couldn’t - oh Maker.” Sasha looked up and grabbed his hand, tugging him down to sit next to her. “Wake up, Anders, I sort of need you right now.”

      “I’m sorry, it’s just… you’re… you could be…. Maker, I’ve told you before, I thought this part of my life was over. I thought I couldn’t be a father, with Justice and being a Gray Warden. Just being with you was enough for me, but now we’re fugitives! How are we supposed to raise a child?” His voice nearly rose to a shout by the end.

      “Don’t panic,” Sasha said with a laugh. “We’re not even sure yet. We’ve gotten through worse before, I’m sure handling a baby will be easy.”

      “How can you be so calm? A man like me, a father? I don’t deserve _you_ , let alone a child!”

      She grasped his wildly gesturing hands and kissed them. “Don’t be ridiculous, Anders,” she said sternly. “I love you, and I choose to keep on loving you through everything we’ve faced.” He finally looked at her, and his eyes were red from holding back tears. “I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful father when the time comes. Let’s cross bridges when we come to them, shall we?”

      He put his arms around her then, pressing his face to her neck. “You are too good for me,” he murmured. Tentatively he ran a hand over the front of her robes. “I can’t believe this. I never thought….” Words failed him and he kissed her instead.

      When he drew away, Sasha smiled again and then hit him hard in the shoulder. “Don’t ever say that you don’t deserve me again, or I’ll hit you harder.”


	4. Lullaby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet little drabble where Anders contemplates what being a father means. Written as a prompt fill on Tumblr.

      Moonlight filters through the wide-spaced boards of the barn where Sasha and Anders have hidden for the night. Sasha sleeps the deep sleep of exhaustion, but tonight, it is not only from being on the run. Tonight has been a long time in coming. Anders is propped up on one elbow in the hay, kept awake in wonderment. He is exhausted, but can’t stop looking at the tiny, wrinkly baby girl swaddled in Sasha’s arms.

      If they thought being on the run from Templars was hard, it had become twice as hard while Sasha was pregnant. But she refused to give up, resolutely continuing to help him pack up camp and even helping other mages they came across. And tonight, in a barn loft, all the hardship has paid off.

      Anders strokes the baby’s tuft of reddish blond hair, and she turns her head and gurgles, but does not wake. She is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, besides her mother, of course. His eyes move up to Sasha’s face, worn out but peaceful in sleep. Her face has lost some of its softness in the past year, and she has chopped off most of her lovely auburn hair in an effort to be less recognizable - but she’s still Hawke. She’s still his Sasha.

       Her eyes flutter open, and she smiles at him, then her eyes immediately go to the baby. “Is she all right?”

      Anders kisses her forehead. “Of course. She’s fast asleep, and you should be too.”

        “Still the mother hen,” Sasha smirks, but then yawns and closes her eyes. “Sing us something,” she murmurs, already halfway back to sleep.

      One hand on the baby’s head and the other stroking Sasha’s cropped hair, Anders lays his head in the hay and hums under his breath, trying to think of something to sing. Something comes to him suddenly, a lullaby he barely remembers. Maybe his own mother sang it to him, another lifetime ago.

      In the end, Anders is asleep himself before he finishes whispering the lullaby. All three of them sleep softly and soundly, buried safely in their nest of hay and camp blankets. In the morning there will be new challenges to face, but for now, they have become a family, and that is enough.


	5. Swimming Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders and Sasha share a cute little family moment with their daughter Abigail.

      “Come on, Abbie, come to papa,” Anders coaxed, holding his arms out. He stood stripped to the waist in a slow-moving, crystal clear stream. Sasha sat on the riverbank, half hidden in the trailing leaves of a weeping willow. She lazily dangled her bare feet in the water, but still kept a sharp eye on the little girl next to her. Abigail eyed her father dubiously, balancing almost on her tiptoes to look at the water without touching it. Anders would never get used to how fast his daughter was growing - she looked as delicate as a little bird, but he knew better. Abigail had inherited every bit of her mother’s stubbornness, and it was showing.

      “I don’t _want_ to swim!” she called, twisting a lock of red-gold hair around her finger. “Why do I have to swim, mama?”

      “You don’t _have_ to,” Sasha said thoughtfully. “But if you don’t….” She pulled Abigail close and tickled her belly, kissing her nose when she squealed with laughter. “I’ll _tickle_ you!”

       “Not tickling!” she shrieked through her giggles. “Papa, save me!”

      “I’m in the water, I can’t save you out there,” Anders said solemnly, shaking his head. “I’m afraid you’re doomed to be tickled.”

       Abigail wriggled out of her mother’s arms and tumbled down the riverbank, laughing all the while. She stopped when she splashed into the water, spluttering and round-eyed.

      Sasha half-rose from her seat in alarm, but Anders was already there, scooping the little girl into his arms and smoothing back her wet hair. “That was a good way to get started, wasn’t it?” he said soothingly. “You got it right over with. You’re my brave girl, aren’t you?” Her chin wobbled a little bit, but then Abigail nodded. “Are you ready to go a little deeper in the water?”

       “Yes!” she crowed with sudden enthusiasm. “Take me swimming, papa!”

       Anders smiled back at Sasha as he carried Abigail into the water. _I love you_ , she mouthed. He ducked his head, suddenly overwhelmed - he wondered for the thousandth time how he could have found such happiness after all he’d done. His daughter distracted him by drumming her tiny fists against his chest. “ _Swimming_ , papa!” she insisted. “I don’t even know how yet!”

      “All right then,” he said, holding her by the arms and letting her feet trail in the creek’s gentle current. Then, Anders crouched down in the water and helped Abigail practice a few simple strokes while holding her up, followed by learning how to float on her back. After a time, Sasha stripped down to her old undertunic and jumped into the water behind them, whooping and splashing. Abigail actually swam a few clumsy dog paddle strokes over to her, and Anders had never felt so proud in his life.

       As the sun went down, Abigail curled up against her father’s chest, exhausted from the day’s activities. Sasha flopped down next to them, her cheeks pink from spending all day in the sun. “I’m glad you taught our little girl how to swim,” she said quietly.

       “She took to it like a fish,” Anders said, patting Abigail’s back gently. “There’s nothing she can’t do.”

       “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Sasha laughed. “But you’re right. She’s pretty amazing.”

       “She takes after her mother.”

       “Still a flatterer after all these years, are you?”

       “Always, love.”


	6. Death and What Comes After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Dragon Age: Inquisition ahead (post Here Lies the Abyss). Anders finds out Sasha's fate. (warning, major character death)

        The letter fluttered out of Anders’ hand as he sank to the floor. His eyes flickered over the first line again and again, as if it might change if he read it enough times.

      _I’ve got bad news, Blondie. I don’t know how to tell you but Hawke is -_

He couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be real. Anders clutched at his hair, feeling the cold floor pressed against his forehead. He felt Justice raging and roaring in the distant parts of his mind, and almost let himself fly apart. Almost.

      “Papa, why are you crying?”

      Anders jerked his head up to see Abbie standing in the doorway, her red-gold hair in disarray and her patched blanket trailing behind her. He hastily wiped his eyes and fixed a weak smile on his face. “Come here, sweet girl,” he said hoarsely, holding out his hands to her. He tried to stop from trembling and from hugging her too tightly when she stepped into his arms.

       After a few minutes, Abbie yawned against his cheek. “It’s because of mama, isn’t it?” she asked sleepily.

     “What? How did you… how did you know?” Anders gently lifted her chin and looked down at her in concern.

     “I saw her while I was sleeping,” Abbie answered matter-of-factly. “She came and sat with me and said that she was so sorry she couldn’t come back. It’s all right though, papa. I know you’ll take care of me. And mama said to tell you that she loves you too.”

      Anders closed his eyes and pulled his daughter close again. There would be time later to ask if she’d seen things in the Fade before, time to test her for magic. Now that he had to face carrying on without Hawke, he had to cling to the only family he had left.


End file.
